


to make the world spin

by seafoamlungs



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Fluff, kind of??, making out in the car, or battle wagon bc this is Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 13:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seafoamlungs/pseuds/seafoamlungs
Summary: Two adrenaline junkies prepare for a race.





	

This has to be the hottest day of the summer. Although it’s late in the afternoon, the heat is scorching. The streets of Goldcliff have turned into a shimmering haze. Sloane’s garage is a baking oven, and Hurley feels like she’s being roasted alive.

She is lying on her back under the car tightening some bolts on the machinery, cursing through her teeth as sweat and motor oil drips into her eyes. She managed to get the afternoon off work, faking sunstroke, and has been working on the car since she came here. One year ago, the mere thought of skipping work- to prepare for a very illegal race, on top of that- would have been impossible. But one year ago, she didn’t know Sloane.

There’s a beginning of a headache- maybe she should take a break- but she pushes on. Her mind is full of cheering crowds, of adrenaline coursing through her veins, of Sloane’s arms triumphantly thrown around her neck.

Tomorrow is the day. They are going to race, and they are going to win. The Raven and The Ram, together.

 

A tap on her ankle makes Hurley yelp “Shit!” and knock her head on the underside of the wagon. Someone crows with laughter, and Hurley knows exactly who it is.

“It’s not funny! I fucking hit my head!” She rolls out from under the vehicle indignantly and is met with Sloane’s wide grin. Hurley didn’t even hear her coming into the garage. Being a master thief, Sloane walks nearly soundlessly, and Hurley really thought she would have gotten used to that by now.

“Sorry, but seeing your little legs sticking out from under the wagon like that, I couldn’t help myself,” Sloane says, putting her bag down on the floor with a clink. She reaches out and rubs Hurley’s oil-stained forehead with a finger.

“Looks like someone could use a good wash!”

“Well, yeah, I’ve been lying under that wagon for like hours, and also I bumped my head right into one of the stickiest parts of it. Hope I’ll be able to wash it out of my hair,” Hurley says.

Sloane slides the finger down Hurley’s forehead, tracing her right eyebrow and finally cupping her cheek with her palm. Sloane’s hand is cool, like she’s been holding something cold, and Hurley leans into it.

“You remembered to take some breaks, right?” Sloane asks, drawing little circles on her cheekbone with her thumb.

“Well… not really… I got caught up in the work, you know?” Speaking of it, Hurley can feel a headache setting in and groans. Sloane shakes her head and takes out two waterskins from her bag, handing one to Hurley.

“I just want to make sure everything’s in perfect order in good time before tomorrow. And at least the bolts on the underside of that wagon are extremely secure,” Hurley says and takes a long draught from the waterskin.

When she looks up, Sloane is giving her a look so soft it makes something inside of Hurley tremble.

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” she says.

“It’s not that hard,” Hurley says, rubbing her neck.

“No, I mean it. I honestly don’t know what I would do without you around,” Sloane says fondly.

“I could say the same about you,” Hurley says. “I probably would have gotten heatstroke for real if you hadn’t come around with the water.”

“Guess we’re just real lucky to have each other around,” Sloane says in a low voice. A warm tenderness wells up in Hurley’s chest.

“Yeah,” she says. Sloane’s hand is back on Hurley’s face, and Hurley covers it with her own. They stay like that for a while. Eventually, Hurley remembers the reason Sloane was away in the first place: to steal an enhancer orb for their vehicle.

Enhancer orbs do exactly what it sounds like: enhance power. The magic inside it works like an amplifier for all sorts of power- magical, mechanical, anything. The only downside is they’re incredibly rare.

“So, did you get the enhancer?” Hurley says excitedly.

“Oh, right! Almost forgot the special ingredient.”

Sloane’s heavenly cold hand leaves Hurley’s face to reach into her bag and pull out a palm-sized crystal orb. When Hurley looks closely at it, she thinks she can make out tiny sparks of its power-enhancing magic dancing like fireflies inside of it. It’s mesmerizing.

“I honestly can’t believe our luck,” she says. “An enhancer orb is basically every single racer’s wettest dream, and you managed to get your hands on one? Amazing,” she says.

 “Go ahead, touch it,” Sloane says, and Hurley reaches out. It’s surprisingly cold for some reason and the magic makes her fingertips tingle.  

“I don’t even have to ask if stealing it went smooth as heck or not, do I?” Hurley says, voice teasingly laced with exasperation.

“Nope,” Sloane grins. “Child’s play. It was basically just lying there, waiting for me to _borrow_ it.” Her eyebrows raise insinuatingly at the word borrow.

“You wouldn’t mind turning a blind eye on this one, Lieutenant?”

Hurley sighs exaggeratedly.

“I’ll let it pass. But _only_ this one, you hear it?”

“You’re all too kind to a simple thief,” Sloane says with a slight bow that sends her dark curls cascading and Hurley’s heart fluttering.

“But before anything else, this simple thief needs some well-deserved rest.”

 

They sit down side by side, leaning against their battle wagon, taking swigs of cold water. Outside, it’s quiet midday heat and every shadow is sunshine-shrunk, hiding in the corners. Sloane’s bare, sweaty shoulder is pressed against Hurley’s. It’s a comfortable silence, a comforting touch.

Hurley watches Sloane’s weathered, oil-stained fingers play absently with the stolen enhancer orb, turning it over in her palm, impatient, brimming with restless energy.

Sloane’s eyes flick around the garage. Hurley knows what her mind is filled with: speed-blurred desert- the weight of an animal mask covering her face- rushing wheels and roaring motors and the finish line rushing closer, closer, closer at an impossible speed, spurring them on…

The silence is comfortable- too comfortable. The summer heat is stagnant and neither of them can stand it. Sloane spins the orb over and over in her restless fingers. She wants to break the silence- to watch the world spin around her palm.

Suddenly, Sloane jumps up.

“Alright, break’s over, let’s do this!” She slams the hood of the battle wagon open, revealing the very impressive motor, the glorious, gleaming heart of their vehicle. She turns to Hurley and holds out the enhancer orb to her.

“You wanna do this?”

“No. We should do it together.” She cups her hand over the orb in Sloane’s hand, and Sloane nods.

They place the enhancer orb carefully into the engine, as if performing a surgery, or making a sacrifice to a god. It falls into place with a smooth click and a few sparks escape. The engine whirrs as the orb’s power seeps into every cog, every wire. Hurley releases the breath she’s been holding.  

“Nice,” she says.

“Come on, we gotta see if it works!” Sloane shouts.

 They get into the car. “You ready?” Sloane says. Her eyes glitter behind a messy curtain of sweaty hair and she’s so incredibly beautiful.

“Always!”

Sloane turns on the engine, and then revs it.

The silence is immediately gone, replaced by the magic-enhanced rumble of the engine. Sloane woops loudly and revs the motor again. The roar is nothing but glorious. Hurley’s heart is racing and she laughs, filled to the brim with excitement, and the engine drowns out her voice and echoes in her head. The battle wagon is a roaring beast beneath them, and Hurley feels so alive.

Sloane releases the gas pedal and turns off the engine. The wagon goes back to sleep. They sit side by side, still laughing wildly.

“Was that awesome or what?” Sloane shouts.

“Oh my god. That might have been the best few seconds of my life,” Hurley gasps. “We’re winning.  We’re definitely winning.”

All she can see is Sloane’s face, her flashing teeth, her crooked nose, her long eyelashes, before they crash into each other and the world spins off its axis in a blur of teeth and hair and laughter.

_This_ is why, Hurley thinks. In her mind, she hears the roar of wheels against hot sand and feels the wind rush against her face as she kisses Sloane again and again and again.

When they break apart, Hurley spits out a few strands of Sloane’s hair that got into her mouth, making Sloane giggle. Her hands are cupping Hurley’s neck, her fingertips feeling the fuzzy hair there.

Their lips touch again, softer this time, slower. Hurley’s heart is still racing, but she can feel the adrenaline rush fading and something tender replacing it. Sloane’s fingers find their way into Hurley’s short curls, and Hurley hums.

It’s comforting. It’s slow and familiar. The feel of Sloane’s curls under her fingers, the softness of her chapped lips, the paths her calloused fingers trace on her neck- all of it is etched into Hurley’s memory forever.

It’s the thrill of the chase, the noise and the danger that makes Hurley feel alive, and Sloane- master thief and reckless battle wagon racer- is all of it. But Sloane is more than that.

She is her home.

The restlessness will always be there. The world will always be too slow, too stagnant. But they will make it spin for them: The Raven and The Ram, together, in the thrill and the comfort.

Slowly, they open their eyes.

“So, are you ready for tomorrow or what?” Sloane asks, grinning, and Hurley looks into those dark, familiar eyes, and answers:

“So fucking ready.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I googled "is revving ur car bad??" and apparently it's damaging to the engine so. don't do this with your battle wagons at home kids.


End file.
